


True Lies

by ashtraythief



Series: Underneath 'verse [13]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternative Universe - FBI, Jealousy, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Undercover, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26183674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: On a night out, an old acquaintance of Jensen shows up and has trouble taking no for an answer. Jared makes it clear that Jensen is his. But Jensen is rattled...
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: Underneath 'verse [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/161699
Comments: 76
Kudos: 341





	True Lies

**Author's Note:**

> For a nonnie on tumblr and theatregirl who both wanted possessive Jared. This one has been sitting for a while because for the life of me, I could not think of a title. This’ll have to do.  
> Many, many thanks to keep_waking_up for telling me the hard truths I needed to hear and to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for their endlessly patient energy to beta my shit. I couldn’t do this without you guys.
> 
> Set early in their relationship, maybe a year in. Sorry for jumping around the chronology again.

Jared wouldn’t call himself a paranoid person. Chad was paranoid enough for both of them. But Jared was certainly vigilant. Wary. Attentive. And when it came to Jensen... Well, he’d been kidnapped once. Almost killed. So, when Jensen went to the restroom and it took longer than five minutes for him to come back, Jared got worried.

He looked back toward the door to their private restrooms. Nothing.

He scanned the rest of the club and found Jensen at the bar. What the fuck was he doing at the bar? They had a waitress who was solely responsible for their booth.

Then Jared noticed the guy standing next to Jensen, talking to him. And Jensen was listening with a smile. Jared sat up, watching them. Jensen didn’t know anyone apart from Jared’s people in Chicago, so this guy was either a new acquaintance or a blast from the past. Jared didn’t know which idea he hated more.

Chad, in true paranoid fashion, noticed immediately. “What’s up?”

“Who’s the guy at the bar with Jensen?” Jared asked, never taking his eyes off them.

“Never seen him before,” Chad said slowly. “But I don’t like him. He looks like a sleazy businessman.”

The guy was tall, as tall as Jensen. He had dark hair and strong, attractive features. He wasn’t Jared’s type, too rough and too old, but objectively speaking the guy was good-looking—for a man in his early forties, anyway. The guy was wearing a well-cut suit, and when he raised his hands, Jared recognized the octagonal clock face of an Audemars Piguet. Attractive and rich. Exactly Jensen’s type.

And Jensen was still looking at the guy. Talking to him. Head tilted slightly to the side, lips pulled into a smile. The guy’s eyes were trained on Jensen in a way that Jared knew too well. Enamored. Hungry.

The guy was hitting on Jensen and Jensen wasn’t telling him no.

Jared stood, rage coiling in his stomach. This was unacceptable. Jared was ready to go over there, drag Jensen to the bathroom, and remind him that he belonged to Jared. Repeatedly. Until he wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.

“Is Jensen running a game on this guy?” Chad asked.

“What?”

“Is the guy a mark?” Chad squinted at them. “Because Jensen’s got that calculating look. And he’s gripping his phone like a lifeline.”

Jared tried to see past the people in the club. Yeah, Jensen was holding his phone tightly in his right hand. And now that Chad had pointed it out, Jared saw that Jensen’s pleasant smile didn’t reach his eyes and his shoulders were tense under his white shirt. The relief hit him hard, and he couldn’t believe that he’d actually worried—Jensen might still keep his cards close to the vest, but he was risking enough to stay with Jared that, rationally, Jared knew Jensen was in it for real—but this, this didn’t make sense.

“Jensen doesn’t work in the city,” Jared said slowly. “So I don’t know—”

Just then, Jensen took a step back, his smile still in place but his eyes wary. He wasn’t even pretending to flirt anymore. And the guy didn’t notice. Instead, he followed Jensen and put a hand on Jensen’s arm. Jensen pointedly looked down at the guy’s hand, then back up at him, eyebrow raised at a sharp angle. It was a withering look that usually sent people cowering. This guy only gave Jensen a smarmy grin and said something that had Jensen yanking his arm back as his face contorted in fury.

Jared had seen enough. He made his way out of the booth. Two of the three guys standing security at the entrance followed him. This guy didn’t look dangerous, just in need of a fist to his face, but you couldn’t be too careful.

The guy wasn’t backing down, and Jared was a little surprised Jensen hadn’t thrown a drink in his face yet. Maybe the guy had power or clout? But being with Jared, Jensen really should have nothing to worry about.

Jared reached them, stepped up next to Jensen, and put an arm around his shoulder, showing off his reach and his height.

Jensen shot him a smile, clearly aiming for amused, but Jared saw the relief in his eyes.

Jared leaned down to kiss Jensen, longer than strictly necessary for a hello kiss, and then turned a level gaze on the guy.

“Hey, sweetheart. Who’s this?”

“Jared, that’s David Jones,” Jensen said.

“David _Haydn_ -Jones,” Jones corrected Jensen. “Of the Boston Haydns,” he added while eying Jared up and down, lingering on his watch.

Great. An old money asshole. Jared was glad he was wearing a Patek Philippe, the only watch brand even more prestigious than Audemars Piguet. Jones’s expression was appreciative as he took in Jared’s chest and shoulders, and the smile he gave him was one of recognition and respect. He didn’t know who Jared was, otherwise there would also be fear in his eyes, but he recognized Jared as a fellow businessman with money and influence.

“We met a while ago at a gallery opening in Philadelphia,” Jensen said, watching their silent measuring standoff with an apprehensive expression.

“ _A_ gallery opening?” Jones asked. “I would say _the_ gallery opening. I mean, it’s not every day that the gallery is robbed while you’re there.”

Jensen’s smile grew brittle. “Of course. Jared, you remember, I told you about that?”

Jared remembered. He remembered because Jensen had been the one who’d robbed that gallery.

“I was there to buy several of the paintings,” Jones continued grandly, “and thankfully none of the ones I was interested in were stolen, but the police still kept us around for an inordinate amount of time. And I had thought my evening would go differently.”

Ah. So Jensen had used Jones either to gain access or as a cover or maybe both. That explained why he’d been so accommodating. Still. The idea that Jensen had flirted on a job stung. Because Jared still remembered how Jensen had teased him at the beginning, all while keeping him at arm’s length, before he’d finally gone on a date with him. Jensen had rejected Jared’s proposal of a night together in exchange for his life, but that hadn’t stopped him from flirting. If Jensen did that on his other jobs as well… Jared balled one hand into a fist and gripped Jensen’s shoulder tighter with the other.

“And as I told you back then, I am not available,” Jensen said to Jones, leaning closer into Jared.

“Well, forgive me for assuming differently.”

“You could have just taken my word for it,” Jensen said harshly.

Jones shrugged. “I was getting some mixed signals.” He shot Jared a fake apologetic smile. “Or at least so I thought. I apologize, Mr….?”

“Padalecki,” Jared bit out, “and well, perceptiveness is not everybody’s gift.”

Jensen huffed out a small laugh and Jones’s expression soured a little. But he didn’t look afraid, so he obviously didn’t recognize Jared’s name.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Jared said. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Jensen nodded at Jones. “Enjoy your evening.”

Jones grinned like a shark. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find a way.”

Jared turned and walked Jensen back to their booth. He didn’t take his hand off Jensen’s shoulder. They didn’t talk until they were back on the couch.

“Before you say anything,” Jensen said, hand on Jared’s chest, “I know what that looked like. But I had to be careful. I—” Jensen rubbed his neck, “I kinda flirted a little bit with him, at the gallery opening, but just so he’d get me into the VIP area and I didn’t have to buy a ticket. And later, he also gave me an alibi for my time in the gallery because he thought I’d been gone way shorter than I was.”

“Yeah, I thought as much.”

Jensen’s face relaxed. “Okay. Good. Because I was not flirting with that guy, because first, I would never, and second, also gross.”

“But you were flirting at the gallery opening.”

“Yeah, but just for the job.” Jensen eyed him curiously. “Oh my God, Jared, you aren’t jealous, are you?”

“No, I’m not jealous,” Jared bit out. “I’m pissed.”

“At me?” Jensen asked, completely perplexed. “Jones was the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“And I’m still debating siccing Mike on him,” Jared said curtly. “But I can’t believe you flirted with him in the first place.”

“Oh, come on.” Jensen rolled his eyes.

“No.” Jared took Jensen’s hand. “You’re mine, sweetheart. I know you don’t like possessive labels, but as long as we’re together, you don’t flirt with anyone else.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him; I was playing him,” Jensen said exasperatedly. “There’s a difference.”

“So what, you’re not good enough to steal something without using your pretty face?” It was a cheap shot, but Jared had a hard time controlling his anger. He hated this side of Jensen, the side that wouldn’t bend to him, that was always outside of his control.

Jensen’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you. I’m plenty good, and you know it. You do remember how we met, right? Sometimes it’s just easier. And why should I make my life more difficult just because you’re annoyed by something you don’t even see happening?”

“But other people see it, Jensen.” Jared pulled Jensen in closer. “I have a reputation, sweetheart, and my boyfriend flirting with random asshole businessmen is not helping.”

“As if my flirting could seriously hurt your reputation,” Jensen said derisively. “Everybody knows you rule this town with an iron fist.”

“Jensen—”

“Jared.” Jensen put a hand on his chest, sensuously tracing the line of Jared’s collarbone. “You’re the fucking boy king of Chicago,” Jensen said slowly, voice dark and heavy like molasses. It made Jared’s dick throb in his pants. Jensen acknowledging his unofficial title didn’t hurt either.

“What I do doesn’t really matter in your circles,” Jensen continued, quietly, coming closer, leaning in. “And even if it did, you’re the first man I ever stayed with for longer than a month. Whatever boost a relationship with me could give you, you’re already getting it.”

Jensen was looking up at Jared through his long eyelashes and Jared’s eyes got stuck on Jensen’s full lips moving in the strobe lights of the club, slowly shaping the words that warmed Jared from the inside out and soothed the rage inside of him. He knew Jensen was manipulating him, but right now, he didn’t care. It was still true.

“Everybody knows I’m yours.” Jensen pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Jared’s mouth. “Everybody knows I would never touch anyone else, and especially not a smarmy asshole like David _Haydn_ -Jones.”

The mention of Jones made Jared pull back and pull a grimace. “Really? Because he seems kind of like your type.”

Jensen’s mouth fell open in outrage and he slapped Jared’s shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with you? He’s a fucking asshole. And what do you even mean, my type?”

Jared shrugged casually. “Tall. Attractive. Rich and powerful.”

Jensen’s brows shot up. “Well. You got two out of four so I guess that’s something.”

“Two out of four?”

Jensen put a hand against Jared’s cheek. “Attractive.” He slid his hand down over Jared’s shoulders. “Tall.” He leaned back. “But I make enough money myself and I don’t care about power.” He smirked. “I just want the confidence. A go-getter attitude. A man who’s smart and capable.” Jensen looked down into Jared’s lap. “Skilled.”

“You’re such a charmer,” Jared said, trying not to let Jensen’s words get to him, even though they were exactly what he needed to hear right now.

Jensen sighed. “My point is, _you_ are my type. Not Jones. Who’s not really that attractive, by the way.” Jensen wrinkled his nose adorably. “Also such a gross show-off.”

Jared couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Yeah, he does seem like a real jackass.”

“Yeah,” Jensen reached for Jared’s hand and slid his thumb down until he touched the wristband of the watch. “That guy told me more about his watches the two times I met him than you did in the entire year we’ve been together.” Jensen looked up at Jared. “I really appreciate that you’re not a bragging poser.”

Bragging was for idiots. With help from Gen, who came from old money and knew how to play the game, Jared had mastered the art of showing off his money and power without being obnoxious about it. It was all about the understatement. But he didn’t say that. Because he didn’t brag. He just closed the gap between their faces and kissed Jensen. “Thanks, sweetheart. You say the nicest things.”

Jensen hummed into his mouth, gripping Jared’s shirt and deepening the kiss. And he didn’t stop. Usually, Jared was the one who instigated their little excursions to the backroom, but he didn’t say no when Jensen wanted to move things somewhere more private. Especially when he knew that this was Jensen’s warped form of an apology. But words were overrated anyway, Jared thought as Jensen slotted his plush lips between Jared’s and sucked on his bottom lip. This was much better than any words.

But Jensen, the fucking tease, didn’t do anything. He just kept kissing Jared, his hand resting high up on Jared’s thigh, only an inch away from his hardening cock.

Just when Jared was about to tell Jensen to move his pretty ass to the back, Chad tapped him on the shoulder.

Reluctantly, Jared pulled back enough to speak. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sorry,” Chad said apologetically, “but Benedict’s on the phone.”

“Dammit.” Jared pressed a short, hard kiss to Jensen’s kiss-swollen lips. “Hold that thought, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

Jensen rolled his eyes and reached for his champagne glass. “I hate your job,” he informed Jared and then turned to the other side where Gen was talking to Aldis and joined their conversation.

Jared went to the back office where he conducted emergency business. Usually, he’d tell whoever was on the phone to call back, but Benedict was a fickle bastard, and Jared had learned that accommodating his exhausting communication habits did get him much better business deals. And while he loved fucking Jensen, it could wait ten minutes when it got him a ten percent discount on the next shipment.

When Jared came back to their booth, Jensen was gone. Jared looked around and this time he found Jensen on the dance floor with Gen. The fucker was probably punishing him for taking the call.

Jared groaned and let himself fall back into the couch.

Chad patted his arm and handed him a tumbler of whiskey. “Remember, at least he keeps you on your toes.”

“I could do one week without Jensen throwing a fit.”

Chad snorted. “You’d be so bored.”

Jared sighed. “Yeah, probably.”

Chad cackled but abruptly stopped. Jared followed Chad’s eyes to the entrance to their booth, where Jones was standing, stopped by the two guards who were waiting on Jared’s word.

“What does he want?” Chad asked.

“I don’t know,” Jared said quietly, “but considering he was Jensen’s alibi during a robbery, we should find out.”

“We should.” Chad sat up straight and waved the guards to let Jones through.

He walked over to them, sat down next to Jared, and poured himself a drink as if he’d known them for years. Entitled asshole.

“You have tight security here, Mr. Padalecki.”

Jared cocked his head. “I do.”

Jones inclined his head. “I guess in your line of business, that’s understandable.”

So Jones had checked up on Jared. Interesting.

“And what line of business are you in, Mr. Jones?”

“I’m currently in pharmaceuticals. Until a better company catches my eye.”

Great. An immoral corporate bloodsucker.

“So, Mr. Padalecki. I’ve been thinking. You’re a businessman; I’m a businessman. So, from businessman to another businessman: How much?”

Confused, Jared raised his eyebrows. “How much for what?”

Jones jerked his head in the direction of the dance floor. “Jensen is one exquisite piece of arm candy. I almost had him in Philadelphia. But he’s a goddamn slippery tease.” Jones seemed delighted by this.

Jared clenched his fist so he wouldn’t choke him right there. He couldn’t believe the audacity.

“Anyway, I thought I was getting somewhere, but clearly that wasn’t his call to make.” Jones waved at Jared. “Which makes so much more sense if he’s yours. So. Name your price.”

“Jensen’s not for sale,” Jared bit out.

Jones’s expression was regretful. “Really now?” He looked back at Jensen on the dance floor with Gen, sinuously moving together while every man in the vicinity drooled over one—or maybe both—of them.

“I know the kind of business you’re in, the commodities you deal with, so you can’t blame me for assuming that Jensen’s one of them.” Jones was still watching the dance floor.

Jared was a second away from breaking the whiskey bottle on the table and ramming it into Jones’s belly. Jared didn’t deal in people, didn’t even deal with human traffickers, and he didn’t know whether he was more mad at Jones’s absolute slimy callousness or the insinuation that Jensen was his personal sex slave.

“Mr. Jones,” Jared said, trying to keep his voice even. “Jensen is not a whore. He’s my boyfriend.”

Jones turned back to him. “Listen, Mr. Padalecki, I called a few people. Inquired about you. And you’re an impressive man. So I understand that you have a reputation to protect. But you also need to understand who I am.”

Jared raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t matter who you are. My answer is no, and my patience is wearing thin.”

Jones gave him a conceited smile. “Mr. Padalecki, please. I am CEO of a fortune five hundred company and I make millions. I have a penthouse in Manhattan, a beach house in the Hamptons, and a chalet in Switzerland. I have _two_ yachts. My brother is a US congressman, my father was a senator. My ancestors came over on the fucking Mayflower. You are a king in your part of the world, Mr. Padalecki; I am a king in mine. So name your price.” Jones leaned forward. “I apologize for my public approach earlier, but here in private, you can admit that the only thing that really matters is money.”

“You have no idea what matters,” Jared ground out.

Chad’s hand wrapped around Jared’s wrist before he’d moved more than an inch. “Not here,” Chad quietly said into Jared’s ear.

Chad was right. Jared wanted blood. He’d need somewhere quiet.

Jones looked Jared up and down again and drew back a little when he finally registered the anger on Jared’s face. “Listen, I don’t have to touch him—I understand if you don’t want anyone’s hands on your boy—but just watching Jensen get on his knees and choke on a dick is going to be a treat.”

Chad let go of Jared’s hand and stood. Good man. Jared balled his free hand into a fist. “Jones—”

“Mr. Padalecki,” Jones cut him off with a smile. “I always get what I want. And right now, I want to see Jensen on his knees, having the smart aleck fucked right out of him until there are tears rolling down his pretty, pretty face and he’s begging for mercy. And I am willing to pay good money for that, even if the someone who’s fucking him is you. So can we just—”

Jared gripped Jones’s collar with his left hand and slammed his right fist into his stomach.

Jones groaned in pain and doubled over.

Jared looked around the booth. Chad was already clearing out his company and Mike was talking to the security. Jones was still trying to catch his breath once it was only Chad, Mike, and Abel in the booth with him.

“Give us some cover,” Chad said into his phone and a moment later, the light in the club dimmed and the music got louder.

Jared took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “I don’t share,” he said. “And I don’t take kindly to someone insinuating my boyfriend is just a piece of meat that they can buy.”

Jones blinked at him. “Listen—”

“I’m done listening to your crap. Tonight, you disrespected me and my boyfriend,” Jared said, slowly advancing on Jones, Chad and Mike flanking him in case he tried to make a run for it. “I tried to make it clear that Jensen was off-limits, but you thought your money could buy you whatever you want. It can’t.”

“Look, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, but that’s no reason to get violent.”

Jared gripped his shirt and punched Jones in the face.

Jones groaned and stumbled back. Jared let go and Jones fell onto the couch.

“You’re crazy.” Jones touched his lip and his fingers came away bloodstained. “Do you have any idea who I am? The people I know?”

Jared smiled. “So? You looked me up. You know who I am. Why do you think I would care about who you know?”

Mike and Chad dragged Jones up and Jared slammed his fist into his stomach, once, twice, three times, the last one hitting him right in the solar plexus.

“I rule this city,” Jared continued coldly. “And you still think I’d give you whatever you wanted, just, what, because you want it? Because you offered me money?”

Jones collapsed forward, wheezing. Jared gripped his hair, pulling him up.

“Surprise, asshole, the world isn’t here to serve you. Especially not my city. Here, I am the one who decides what you get.” Jared punched him into his lower chest, cracking at least two ribs.

Jones groaned. “Please, I have money. Just. A hundred grand and you let me go and I won’t come after you.”

“A hundred grand?” Jared asked derisively. “Are you kidding me?”

“Five hundred!” Jones yelled.

Jared struck him in the face.

“A million! A million dollars!”

Jared gripped his face, pulled him in close. “There’s not enough money in the world,” he said slowly. “You have to understand something, Mr. _Haydn_ -Jones. Money can’t buy you everything. You think money equals power, but it doesn’t. For power, you need money _and_ respect. But a slimy little fucker like you knows nothing about respect.”

Jones whimpered, blood dripping from his split lip.

“You should be grateful,” Chad said cheerfully. “That we’re taking it upon ourselves to teach you about it.”

“Indeed,” Jared said, flexed his fingers before he balled them into a fist again. He’d just drawn back again when Jensen’s voice cut sharply through the club’s noise. “What the fuck is going on here?”

Jared, Chad, and Mike all looked at him, frozen.

Jensen looked at Jones. “Jared, are you fucking kidding me, you can’t beat up a guy just because he hit on me.”

Jared had wanted to keep this away from Jensen, but he wasn’t going to endure a Jensen Campbell hissy fit to protect his feelings. “Well, I was prepared to let it go, but then he came up to me and offered me money to let him take you for a ride.”

Jensen’s eyes went wide. “He what?”

“Oh yeah. And when I told him that I don’t share, he said he’d be okay with watching. As long as I put you on your knees.”

Jensen’s face hardened and his green eyes glinting with fury turned on Jones. “You fucking piece of shit.”

“So can I continue?” Jared gestured at Jones. “Or would you like to have a turn?”

“I’m not touching this asshole with a ten-foot pole.” Jensen’s eyes narrowed, assessing Jones. “He kinda looks like he’s had enough. Though I do hope his nose is broken.”

Jared turned back to Jones and, in a well-practiced move, brought his fist down diagonally on his nose. It was the first trick Mike had ever taught him.

Jones screamed and bright red blood started gushing from his nose.

“It is now,” Jared said.

“Then it’s enough.”

Jared looked back at Jones. Thought about stopping. He didn’t like it. Jones took the decision out of his hands.

“I don’t need your fucking help,” Jones spat at Jensen. “Fucking whore.”

Jensen’s face pulled into a sneer, and with three strides he was standing in front of Jones. He jerked his knee up, right into Jones’s crotch. Jones doubled over in pain. Chad and Mike didn’t even bat an eye.

“I’m not a whore,” Jensen told Jones coldly. “You have no idea who I am.” Then he stepped back and turned to Jared, face pale and tight. “Can we go home? I’m not in the mood to party anymore.”

Jared had wanted to stay with Jones and finish teaching him a lesson, but something in Jensen’s expression made him nod. “Mike?”

“Yeah, no worries, I’ll clean up here, have them wipe the tapes. Gonna bring Mr. Jones back to his hotel room and we’re going to have a long chat about how he’s not going to tell anyone about this and how he’s never going to set foot into Chicago again.” Mike patted Jones’s shoulder. “Might even teach him some manners, like how he shouldn’t insult people who turn down unwanted advances.”

“Thanks.” Jared put a hand on the small of Jensen’s back and steered him outside. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Usually, Jensen hated when Jared manhandled him outside of sex. He didn’t like to be pushed around. But he was strangely quiet now.

In the car, Jared reached for his hand. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m not a whore,” Jensen said. “I never was.”

“I know,” Jared said, surprised. Jensen didn’t sound outraged; he sounded almost distressed. Insistent. Like he had to explain this to Jared. Like he had to convince him.

“I let you pay because I know you want to,” Jensen said, still not looking at him. “When we go out, I mean. But I could pay all my own bills. I don’t need your money. And I’ve never—even in the beginning when I was saving up to pay Heyerdahl, I’ve never let you do anything I didn’t like. Everything I did, I did it because _I_ wanted to do it.”

“I know,” Jared said again, softer this time. “I remember how you refused to sleep with me to save your life. It’s not often that I get turned down and certainly not when I point a gun at someone’s head. But you did.”

Jensen looked at him, and there was something in his face Jared couldn’t read. He looked distraught, but why?

“What’s going on, Jensen?”

“I use my looks sometimes,” Jensen said hoarsely. “I flirt, on a job. But I’ve never—I’m not—”

And Jared remembered how Jensen had told him that his mother had sold her body whenever money was tight. How Jensen had told him once that he and his sister looked very much alike, just like their mother. And he remembered when they’d met for the first time, how hard Jensen’s eyes had been when he’d told Jared that he was not a whore. All of that together with Jensen’s looks, and the zero percent chance that no one had ever offered to pay for him before, made all of this make much more sense.

Jared reached over and pulled Jensen into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I know, baby. I know.”

Jensen huffed, half-annoyed, half-disgusted, probably as much with himself as with Jared’s attempt to comfort him. His whole body was tense, but Jared just held him tight and tilted his head up with two fingers under his chin to kiss him. At first, Jensen didn’t react, so Jared went back to what always worked. He pushed Jensen back into the seat, slid in-between his legs, covered him with his body, and kept kissing him, not giving him time to breathe. And finally, Jensen’s hands came up to grip his shoulders and he kissed Jared back, wild and hungry.

By the time they reached the house, they were both hard and panting. If Jensen hadn’t been so distraught ten minutes ago, Jared would probably have just gotten them both off in the car, but as it was, he got out of the car, Jensen right behind him.

Jared hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Jensen plastered himself to Jared's front and kissed him again. They stumbled up the stairs, never letting go, and Jared barely got the door open.

“Just, here.” Jensen's hands were fighting with Jared’s belt. “C’mon.”

“No.” Jared gripped Jensen’s thighs and lifted him up. He’d done this enough times that Jensen knew to hold on and tighten his legs around Jared’s hips.

Both the couch or the guest bedrooms would be easier, but Jared wanted to have Jensen in their bed. He concentrated on making it up the stairs, especially because Jensen’s mouth was on his neck, a frantic drag of lips and tongue that was driving Jared crazy.

As soon as he reached the landing, he let Jensen slide down and started taking off his clothes. Buttons flew and Jensen’s shirt tore at the collar, but by the time they reached the bed, they were naked.

Jensen reached for him, sliding both of his hands into Jared’s hair and pulling him into another deep, toe-curling kiss. Jared gripped his ass, maneuvered them down onto the bed, and blindly fumbled for the lube in the bedside drawer. Jared’s dick was so hard it hurt and sweat was gathering at his hairline. He just wanted to bury himself inside of Jensen and fuck him through the mattress, but that wasn’t what Jensen needed.

So Jared slicked his fingers and opened Jensen up. It wasn’t easy, because Jensen refused to let go of Jared’s hair, but Jared was okay with that. He kissed his way down Jensen’s neck to hear him gasp and moan freely, then moved back up again to swallow all the sounds just for him and feel Jensen’s erratic breath against his lips.

When he finally pushed inside, Jensen arched his back with a sharp inhale, his head falling back, eyes closed and muscles tensed.

“Thank you,” Jared said.

Jensen’s eyes flew open. “What?”

“Thank you.” Jared kissed his lips, his cheek, his chin. “Thank you for giving me this.” Dragged his lips down Jensen’s neck to his collarbone. “For giving me you.” Bit at Jensen’s soft, freckled skin. “You’re a gift, Jensen.” Buried his cock in Jensen’s tight heat again and again. “I know that. I’ve always known that.”

Jensen’s hands tightened painfully in Jared’s hair, but Jared didn’t stop. He shoved in deep, again and again, pushing Jensen’s legs up, almost folding him in half to get even closer. But Jensen's eyes were screwed shut again, and he was biting his lips. Jensen wanted this, but not like this.

Jared rolled them around until Jensen was on top of him. “Whatever you want to give me, baby.”

Panting, Jensen stared at him, then his face went soft, cracked open. He dragged his thumb along Jared’s lips and leaned down to kiss him, so softly. “Everything.” His voice was rough, breaking. “I want to give you everything,”

He rolled them around again and Jared took the lead Jensen had given him. He fucked Jensen, hard and deep, ignored his own need to come, just staying close enough to kiss Jensen’s mouth and bite his neck until Jensen finally, beautifully shook apart in his arms.

Jared let himself go. He gripped Jensen’s ass tighter for more leverage and, with a few hard thrusts, followed right behind. He came deep inside of Jensen, fucking him through the aftershocks and gentling his movements only when Jensen flinched.

Jensen let out an appreciative hum and lazily raised his hips to meet Jared’s, soft and slow until they both stilled. Carefully, Jared pulled out and rolled off, taking Jensen with him.

Jensen curled up against his side, one hand on Jared’s chest, drawing patterns on Jared’s sweat-slick skin.

“Jensen,” Jared started, but Jensen raised his hand to Jared’s mouth and pressed a finger against his lips.

“Shh. Just. I know. So let’s just go to sleep.”

“Wanna clean up first?”

Jensen’s fist clenched around Jared’s biceps.

“Okay then.” Jared pulled and tugged on the blanket until they were both covered. He still reached for a tissue and at least wiped the come off of them. Jensen grumbled, but wiggled back into his arms when Jared was done.

Jared kissed Jensen on the forehead. He was grateful, so fucking grateful, that Jensen had chosen to stay, again and again. Every day, Jared battled with Jensen’s independence, and every day he won. Because Jensen stayed. But Jared didn’t say that; he never said any of that. Instead, he let Jensen turn in his arms and then pulled Jensen back against his chest, resting his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck.

Jared started drifting off when Jensen muttered something. He thought it sounded like ‘thank you.’


End file.
